Bloody Court Shoes
by Andrew Scott.Hi
Summary: Jim Moriarty. Criminal Mastermind. Spider in the web. Sadistic psychopath. Tennis coach? When Jim uses his new "job" as a cover for some less than legal business (as per usual), he meets a very intriguing individual with a past nearly as dark and delicious as his own. His name is Sebastian Moran. MorMor Jim/Sebastian Moriarty/Moran
1. Off the Deep End

**Hey guys. This chapter is a rewritten combination of chapters one and two, so hopefully it's better. Thanks so much, hope you enjoy.**

_Fuck. I'm doing this. _Jim frowned at his reflection. His loose shirt and shorts, thick soled court shoes. Tennis bag slung over one shoulder. If he was going to pull this off, he'd have to do a lot better than that.

A cold mask of impassivity fell over his face. He tilted his head slightly to the side and grinned cruelly. _Maybe...I'll play the short-tempered new coach._

**Don't be stupid, darling. Give the people what they want.** Moriarty said silkily. There was a threat hidden there somewhere, and a shiver ran up Jim's spine.

This new job certainly wasn't going to be very exciting, especially by Moriarty's standards, but Jim wanted a break from the constant stress and violence. Moriarty may be the one inflicting it, but Jim felt...crushed beneath Moriarty's expectations and standards for cultivating his growing empire. Not that he didn't usually enjoy it, no. He just couldn't do it 24/7 like Moriarty wanted them to.

Jim would be supervising the sale of steroids and performance-enhancing drugs (or so he told them) to the tennis pros that played and worked at Randolph Tennis Centre. He would pose as a new tennis coach, and thankfully, he could play. He could _really _play. One of the only things that Moriarty admitted Jim was good at, other than acting. Not that he thought it mattered. A memory tugged at his attention, and Jim's breathing quickened. _No. Stop it. We're not going there now. _

Jim let a shy, nervous man, new to coaching, mask his dark, glittering eyes and turn them softer. This would do. It'd have to.

He grimaced once more at his reflection, at the dark hair sticking out in all directions, and strode out of the room, and out of his (certainly _not_modest) flat. He nodded curtly to a suited man standing by the door, who walked behind him as Jim took the elevator down to the lobby, and was met by a deceptively nice cab-style car. They were off.

o0O0o

Jim tilted his head back against the cool leather seat and blinked slowly. He frowned when he caught the driver glancing at him in the mirror. The man jerked away like he'd been burned.

_It's not like I'm going to lash out and kill them at any moment._

**Maybe **_**you**_** won't...** Moriarty said, grinning.

They arrived quickly, early enough to make sure everything was running smoothly before the general staff arrived. It looked like a storm was already building, not a patch of blue left between the thick grey clouds.

Now, this job was by no means the biggest Jim had done, but it was certainly required a lot of stealth to sell steroids at a smaller centre. This fact had apparently not been rammed through the thick skulls of Jim's employees quite hard enough (literally when it comes to the ones Moriarty got a bit too annoyed with).

"Oh for fuck's sake." Jim breathed as he stepped out of the car. He could feel something was off, and the dangerous mood Moriarty was radiating in waves told him he was right. A black suited man was pacing back and forth along the concrete sidewalk. Jim looked around quickly, but it seemed the security cameras he'd had replaced where doing their job, i.e. the opposite of what the centre's management wanted them to do.

Jim strode up to the man, who explained through stuttered words and gestures that the medic had gotten the dose wrong for an early riser.

"...O-or somethin' complicated li' that." The man finished, and pointed to a short, sandy haired man standing in front of the gap between two buildings. "E's over there."

Jim pushed past him, only barely getting a glimpse of a twitching shape behind the medic before he gave Moriarty the reins.

_Better give them a taste of what they signed up for._

**Honey, you don't know the half of it. **

Moriarty grabbed the medic forcefully by the arm and dragged him over to the dying man, evidently an eager client that got his first dose early.

Moriarty blinked slowly, licking his lips as he watched the athlete twitch on the ground, almost reveling in it. The doctor shivered, and Moriarty smiled softly at him; his glinting eyes promising anything but forgiveness.

"High blood pressure. Muscle and bone weakness. Agitation and…" Moriarty lilted; then tilted his head at the medic, " _Psychosis." _He toed the barely living man on the ground with the edge of his court shoe. "All symptoms of…" He looked pointed at the nervous man opposite.

"Uh, um, Corticosteroid Overdose, sir." The man stammered. Moriarty closed his eyes and nodded, then turned towards the sky. Jim ignored the small nagging hint of doubt in the back of his mind, and watched.

"Now, dear, you can see why this might be a problem."

"Well, sir, uh-" Moriarty shook his head and gestured to the heavens, the clouds, grey and swollen hanging heavily in tense air, as if waiting for a signal to pour down on them all.

"I'll tell you why, _doctor. _You always hear the thunder on delay, long after the lightning has struck. That's how my business works. We strike…" Moriarty stepped closer to the medic.

"We finish the job…" He took another step.

"And we're gone-" He snapped his fingers.

"-by the time, if ever, our enemies know we were there at all."

Moriarty cracked his neck, his head oscillating back and forth like some exotic snake, before turning a menacing look of mock concern on the shivering medic. "So, I'll ask you again. _Do you see why this could be a problem? _"

"Uh, y-yes, sir, Mr. Moriarty, s-sir-"

Moriarty smiled again and spoke softly. "So the next time I find you've endangered our operation like this again, you'll find yourself being donated to science, and that's only if you're lucky enough to be intact when I'm done with you." He winked. The medic nodded hurriedly and skittered off; while Moriarty snapped his fingers and a couple more men dragged the now-still body away.

Jim drew in a deep breath as Moriarty released control. It was always a bit refreshing to come back up. He didn't really know how this whole thing worked, though sometimes he mapped out the human brain and hundreds of notes on the windows of his flat for days, not stopping for food or sleep as his own mind seemed to consume him...but he mustn't think about it now.

"Not much to do about it now, on such short notice. It will end up reported, but make sure it won't be tracked back to us." The men nodded, one heading back to the car and and the other two back to the alley to finish the body clean up. Jim turned back to the tennis centre, and tried to push down the persistent nervous flutter in his stomach.

oO0Oo

Jim pushed through the heavy glass door and stepped into the front office, his features arranged to send hopeful, innocent waves towards his coworkers. This was easy for Jim. Playing the role. Pretending. Nothing new...which was a bit boring, now that he thought about it. Sometimes he wished he didn't have Moriarty to help him, to do the work that required a cold, violent front that Jim wasn't capable of. It would make things harder, for sure, but perhaps it might have given him a chance to be challenged.

_Nothing _was ever a challenge.

Jim smiled nervously at the receptionist, who directed him to a room behind the counter. He entered quietly, and found a group of six tennis coaches sitting around the table, some talking, others fiddling with their phones or rackets. A middle aged man with dark brown hair shook his hand and pointed him to a chair.

"Hullo. I'm Chase, the head coach here at Randolph. You must be James." He said in a thick cockney accent.

"James." Jim said, flicking his eyes excitedly around the room.

"Brilliant." Chase scanned the table, and rolled his eyes. "You didn't happen to see a cocky twat on your way in?"

_Seriously? This is what I'm going to be concerning myself with?_

"Sorry?"

"Bout' one-nine. Sorta ginger."

"Nope, sorry. I'll keep my eye out though." Jim said, cringing internally at the sickly sincerity in his voice. The meeting consisted of Chase explaining how the practices would work, how each group of students was assigned a court and one or two instructors. Today was apparently not a class day, which Jim knew already, of course, and they would be allowed to use the ball machines for the rest of the day.

"Right, one more order o' business."

Jim groaned internally, and a couple other coaches sent sympathetic looks his way.

"Jim, you're new here, so unfortunately you'll be on court five." Chase grimaced. Due to the obvious pity the other coaches were giving him, Jim was apparently going to be teaching in joint with Mr. Better-Than-Thou. If he didn't already have enough to deal with.

Chase ended the meeting and told them to go mess around with the ball machines or hit with each other if they wanted. Most of the coaches went home, shaking their heads as if the mere thought of getting some extra practice in if they didn't have to was absurd.

Jim strode off in the direction of the equipment shed, past the numerous courts sectioned off with chain-link fencing. He trailed his fingers along the intertwined wire, his gaze lowered, eyelashes brushing the skin beneath his dark eyes. He reached the shed and unlocked the door with his new ring of keys. The wood was old and splintered, the only part of the clinic not rebuilt when the renovations were done a couple years ago.

He grabbed a ball machine and dragged it out to to the back of the clinic, away from the few others who had elected to stay. After setting it up on one side of the court, he tugged his racket out of his bag and jogged to the opposite baseline. He twirled his racket between his hands, and waited for the the first pop of a tennis ball being shot towards him.

oO0Oo

Jim was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. A yellow ball soared over the net. He drew back his arm smoothly, whipped it forward with a sharp turn of his shoulders, and sent it spinning back.

Jim was good at tennis. He probably could have gone pro if he wanted to, but he didn't. Want to, that is. However much Jim loved the way the game could numb his mind, make him blind to distractions and allow his fragmented mind to focus, he would never be able to stop his work. Not to say the sport hadn't been a grateful barrier in his youth against his own mind, but...he didn't think about that.

Hitting the ball over and over, his mind blissfully blank and free from Moriarty, there was a downside to being completely unaware of his surroundings. i.e., he was completely unaware of his surroundings.

"Not bad." said a warm, slightly gruff voice from behind him. Jim froze.

**Alright. The chapters do get longer in the future. Anyway, thank you so much for reading, catch you guys later.**

**ciao**


	2. Don't Look Us Right in the Face

**Pull yourself together.** Moriarty seethed. Jim scoffed internally as he turned towards the side of the court and saw who was standing there. He was instantly embarrassed. A tall, muscular man with tanned skin and piercing blue eyes was standing with his toned arms folded comically on the fence and his chin resting on them. His reddish blonde hair, while cropped close on the side, was long on top and flopped over his forehead. It really was quite ado-

_Damn it Jim, you're a criminal mastermind, put this cocky guy in his place._

"You must be the new recruit." The man smirked. Jim cocked his head to the side as he walked toward the ball machine, staring (hopefully) coolly at the blonde man. He could feel his ears turning red.

"Maybe." He turned the ball machine off, turning his back to the man to show he was not to be intimidated. _This doesn't really match what, or rather who I'm supposed to be acting like right now. _He had pulled his bag back over his shoulder and picked up his water bottle, and had just turned back to the machine to take it back to the shed when an arm reached past him and grabbed the handle of the machine.

"I'm Sebastian. By the way." A slightly rough voice by his ear said. Jim froze, and slowly turned around. _How did he-no, that's not the problem. No one sneaks up on Jim Moriarty._

"You can't just do that." He growled. 'Sebastian' grinned again as he towed the machine away, his wide smile accentuating his sharp jawline.

"Why not?" Jim was left with no choice but to follow him. He switched tacts.

"You must be the, I quote, 'cocky twat' that I was warned about." Jim said with forced enthusiasm. The facade was getting a bit harder to hold up while pinned under the blue eyed man's gaze. Sebastian just turned around and winked.

"Yup. If you're the new guy, and they told you that, you must be on my court." Jim could feel himself turning red again, and he was sure that it couldn't have gone unnoticed. Wait...

_Aren't I supposed to be playing the softie? _Damn it. Jim played up his character, shuffling his feet and looking embarrassed and uncomfortable. He tried to push away the fact his blush appeared before he realized he'd forgotten his act.

**You'd better hope he's stupid, dear. Anyone could see that change.**

"Oh." Jim said, watching for Sebastian's reaction. It didn't look like he had noticed the shift, the taller man had just kept wheeling the ball machine, Jim trailing behind him.

"Sorry about that, by the way." Sebastian said silkily.

**He is definitely flirting with you. **Moriarty teased.

_Is not._

**Is too.**

Jim shook his head as if clearing water from his ears. This 'Sebastian' was getting increasingly harder to interact with.

"No. Um, they were, uh, probably exaggerating." Jim stammered, almost completely on purpose, and yet, a bit forced. _Ugh._ Sebastian grinned, showing all his teeth, and gave Jim a look that almost made him think he'd been found out.

"Exaggerating about me being a stuck-up prick? Guess you'll have to find out for yourself." Jim swallowed.

_If I didn't have to keep this stupid character up, this man would soon find out exactly what he was dealing with. _

**For once I think we agree on something, darling. **They reached the shed, and Sebastian dragged the machine inside. Jim stood outside. While the weather was habitually cool, the shed was a stuffy oven. Sure enough, from inside the shed issued a disgruntled voice.

"God it's hot." Jim nearly snorted at that.

"You can say that again." He muttered under his breath. The sound of the door creaking shut had Jim whipping his head around to see Sebastian closing the door behind him. "Nothing…" He mumbled. Sebastian cocked his head to the side and squinted at him for a moment.

"Well then," Sebastian said, leaning a tiny bit closer. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow…"

"Jim."

**If he comes any closer- **Moriarty seethed. Moriarty's darkness was boiling inside him, and if Sebastian wasn't careful... he was going to get burned.

"...Jim. On court five at nine, yeah?" The taller man (who was currently about a foot away from him)'s words were casual, but the way he said them was not. Jim had to force himself to not crack his neck like he usually did before he did something particularly violent. Sebastian winked again and walked off, his shirt stretching over his back and narrow waist as he ducked into the front office. Jim let the confused look fall off his face, icy calm reflected in his black, glittering eyes. He turned slowly and drew in a calculated breath.

_I won't pretend that wasn't confusing, but-_

**I am going to tear the heart out of that sentimental, conceited bastard's chest. I bet he's never done anything remotely exciting in his entire life other than staring in the mirror and-**

_So you admit he'd a bit of a looker. _

"Boss." Came a voice from beside him. Jim was jerked from his inner argument to see one of his men standing in front of him. He must have been staring straight ahead, too preoccupied with his (and Moriarty's) own thoughts to register the black suited man.

"What is it?" He said coldly. His temper was already a bit short from being given attention by someone who was supposed to be rude to everyone because he thought he was better than them. And Jim didn't like annoying puzzles that weren't worth solving. The grunt gulped visibly in the face of Jim's malice, sending a slight quirk of a smile to his lips. He tilted his head at the grunt. "Go on."

"Well, sir, uh-" Jim flashed forward and set his face in stone, his dark eyes boring into those of his employee.

"Spit it out." he said, his words laced with ice and poison. The man stumbled back a couple steps

"It's the new medic, sir. He's been found bound and gagged in one of the storage closets."

This was the one thing that Jim Moriarty loathed about his job. If the men he hired, paid generously and give _only _around ten death threats a week couldn't keep one of their own from being caught and ruining the plans for one day, then what was the point? Unfortunately, Jim couldn't do everything himself, and although there were usually heavy and gruesome casualties when Moriarty lashed out, it never got them caught. Unattentive personnel did. They were only one day in and already there were confidentiality issues that could get them noticed, including the death of a client that morning. Jim could feel something violent brewing with Moriarty, and if he didn't get this sorted soon, he was going to hurt someone. Well, when he says _he..._

"Well then." Jim whispered. "Lead the way." He grinned, his lips stretching into a malicious smile that didn't reach his glittering eyes. The man seemed not to register. Jim was going to have to handle his employees better, or soon they would all be reduced to inarticulate vegetables with all the emotional lashings he was giving them. "NOW!"

The man hurried off, with Jim strolling purposefully behind him. They quickly reached a storage shed not unlike the one he and Seb-

_No, you don't need to be thinking about that right now._

**That's right, dear. There are punishments to be dealt. **Moriarty said cooly. A grunt held the door open to reveal a struggling man bound and gagged with a set of… _are those police issue handcuffs? _Faulty employees aside, he had set up enough contingency plans and bribes to have kept them completely under the radar for at least a couple weeks. _So...who else has access to their equipment? _Jim's mind ran through all known affiliations and similar task forces to the police, but his plans insured protection from them as well. He knew he would figure it out eventually, but letting whoever it was go free for a little while longer would be much more fun, at least until he really did have to get on with business. Jim stepped closer to the bound man until the shadows of the unlit shed slide back to reveal -

_Who the hell is that?!_ The man looked nothing like medic Jim had chewed out that morning. He was brunette as opposed to silvery blonde, and had hazel eyes instead of blue. He ripped the binding off the man's face.

"Tell me what is going on and I might not vent my frustration by playing darts with your face." he hissed. He could feel Moriarty pushing to be let out, but _I can handle this one myself. _The man shivered and spoke as if he wanted to get this interaction over with as soon as possible, which, considering Jim's track record with his employees, was probably true.

"I-I was supposed to come this mo-morning som-someone grabbed me on the way here and I didn't know what to do I guess I wa-was knocked out and I woke up here and-"

Moriarty forced his way out in one surge of force, and he silenced the blubbering medic with one slowly spreading grin, his head tilted down and to the side with mock pity. He seized him by the throat and spoke in a voice that would have been called soft had it not been for the rage glinting his eyes.

"Alright, dear. I evidently made a mistake hiring you, but there's already been to many bodies today." Jim regained control and released the man.

**Aw. That was gonna be fun. **

"But if I find you've told anyone anything about the good work we're doing here…" He smiled slightly. The man nodded frantically, and one of Jim's men set to work on the rest of the bindings. Jim left the shed quickly and ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes darted quickly from side to side as the thought furiously as to-

_Who _had _he talked to this morning?_

'**Talking' is being generous, honey. **Jim's head jerked up. He'd thought he'd seen a flash of ginger hair, but when his dark eyes focused… there was nothing there. He dug his phone out of his pocket, called for a car, and left.

oO0Oo

Sebastian pulled back from looking around the corner and slide down the wall to the concrete. He ran his hand over his short beard and tried to stop his traitorous heart from pounding with excitement.

_What the fuck are you up to, Jim?_

**There it is! I am having trouble judging whether or not this is turning out well at all, ergo it would be remarkably helpful to hear any feedback at all. **

**Anyway, I think you are going to enjoy the next chapter. The last bit in this chapter hints at the perspective...**


	3. The Facade I Saw Through

**Sorry this chapter is a little late, I was on a trip that limited my writing time! I really loved writing this chapter, and I hope you like reading it too… Apologies for the long note, but there is some important info about updates in here...**

**A MASSIVE thank you to the continual support from deadliestdistractionRN, you don't know how much it means to me… an extra note for you (and my other reviewer) at the end…**

**UPDATE NOTE: I may be late with the next few updates, my schedule just changed a lot, so I am going to be extremely busy. Hopefully I will be able to find time to write this fic! Enjoy the longest chapter yet… ;)**

oO0Oo

Sebastian Moran woke amidst a tangle of sheets that morning, at around eight thirty. He laid in bed for around an hour, staring at the ceiling as adrenaline worked its way out of his system. The plaster was cracked, thin lines running through it like spider webs. His hands rested loosely clasped on his bare chest. He closed his eyes slowly, silently wishing he could live in his dreams forever.

_He was running. Running as fast as he could, his rough BDU pants and tactical utility belt scraping his hands slightly with each pass as he pumped his arms. He had somehow managed to keep his __L115A3 bolt-action sniper rifle slung over his shoulders. Excitement pulsed through his veins as he pushed aside wide green leaves and dove between vine covered trunks. He rolled behind a slight hill, pivoting and facing back the way he came. He had gotten far ahead enough to use his rifle, having lost his sidearm in the raid he'd just fled. He pushed his longer-than-regulation hair out of his eyes and swung his rifle around. He braced it against his shoulder, sliding his hand along the barrel to the bolt. He loaded it and leveled his eye with the scope. His sights landed on a bulky figure creeping through the jungle in his general direction. The enemy had no idea where he was. He rested his gloved finger on the trigger. He could almost hear his heart beating against his ribs. He held the rifle steady and blew out a breath. He pulled the trigger, and sighed with satisfaction as the enemy dropped like a rock to the jungle floor. He leaned back on his heels, tilted his face to the foliage covered sky, and grinned._

Sebastian blinked his eyes open and took a shaky breath, his lungs aching as he filled them. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. The springs creaked as he pressed down with his knuckles and levered himself up. As he trudged to the small bathroom, Sebastian did his best not to look at his closet.

_Where my uniform is supposed to be hanging. Guess that's how dishonourable discharge works. _

He picked up his toothbrush and brought it to his mouth. It wasn't like he had any loyalty to the uniform or medals, they just represented the best time in his life. Sebastian would do anything to get back out in the field, no one but him and his rifle (and a couple hundred idiots). _But that's the kind of thinking that got me kicked out, or at least taking action on that thinking. _He splashed cold water over his face, slicking back his hair, streaked with gold from the light filtering in from the skylight. He stared into the mirror, tracing the scars on his abdomen and chest with his eyes, the nick in his ear.

oO0Oo

A couple minutes later, Sebastian was freshly showered and dressed in his tennis gear. He picked up his racket bag from where it was resting against the foot of his bed, his mobile from the bedside before walking out the door and hailing a cab. He was late for work, but since when had Sebastian Moran followed anybody's rules. He tossed his bag into the seat next to him and told the cabbie the address of the tennis centre. Resting his head in his hands, Sebastian rubbed his eyes hard, as if it would take him far away. They reached the tennis centre in around twenty minutes. Sebastian had the cabbie stop outside the turn in, paid him, and continued on foot towards the front building. The clouds were heavy and low, the slight rumble every couple of minutes promising a storm. He was watching the ground as he walked, kicking pieces of gravel as he wove between cars. He jerked his head up, scanning the surrounding area with a frown. Something had triggered his instincts, alerting him to something dangerous or off.

_And exciting. _Sebastian grinned to himself and set off more quietly, slipping between vehicles and looking through layers of glass windows to get a look at what was going on. He could make out some movement near an alley on the side of the building, but by the time he'd gotten close enough, there were only two things of interest. One, a couple of black cars driving away just a bit too fast, and two, a short, dark haired man with a tennis bag slung over his white clothed shoulder. He was thin, with narrow shoulders and a pale skin. From this distance, even Sebastian's sharp eyes couldn't tell much else except for the way the man's black hair puffed up in all directions. Something told him to keep out of sight as he watched the short man walk up to the front door. He stopped by the curb, looking down at what seemed to be a small lizard or rodent. The man's face was blank as he slowly brought his foot down onto it's back, crushing the breath out of it and possibly snapping it's tiny back. Sebastian watched as the brunette nudged the dead creature into a storm drain and continued on his way. The man had tilted his head to the side as he'd killed it, as if curious as to what would happen if he pressed _just so_ with his foot. A smile tugged at Sebastian's lips, growing even bigger as he crept a little closer to see a look of nervousness and excitement fall over the carefully blank face. A spark of interest flashed in Sebastian's stomach. This man was the first interesting thing he'd seen in months.

_Oooh. I'd better keep an eye on this little f*cker. _Sebastian flashed another wide grin to himself before pushing himself off the side of a sports car and walking back to the edge of the car park. He'd seen and been around long enough to know that nothing interesting would happen during the meeting. Intriguing new person aside, he'd been in the meeting enough times to know Chase's introduction speech word for word, and it's not like anyone would miss him. He was Sebastian, brooding recluse who snapped at everyone who was brave enough to speak with him. He leaned against a low concrete wall and pulled a pack of cigarettes and a zippo out of his pocket. He lit the end of one and brought it to his lips. Inhaling the warm smoke and letting the nicotine flood his system, he watched the door of the front office. When he could see movement inside, he'd know the meeting was over. Sebastian tilted his head back and blew hazy wisps at the sky, the smoke blending in with the ominously rumbling clouds.

oO0Oo

As soon as Sebastian had seen the blurry figures of people moving around inside the front office, he pushed off from the wall with one hand and stubbed his cigarette out on the concrete with the other. When he'd gone inside the building, he found Chase still in the room, drawing up tournament brackets behind the front desk.

"How was the meeting?" Sebastian said.

"Finally decided to show up, eh?" Chase shook his head, glaring at him. "Why bother, anyway, 's not like you care."

"Just trying to ask how the meeting went." Chase rolled his eyes,

"Fine. New guy seemed real eager to do well. He's on your court tomorrow."

"Hm." A grin tugged at Sebastian lips as he walked out the swinging glass door towards the tennis courts. He walked quickly to the back of the complex to the more secluded courts. If he had understood everything he'd observed about the dark eyed man correctly, then this was where he would be. He reached the farthest court quickly, and arrived to see exactly who he was looking for hitting balls shot from a ball machine. He watched quietly as the small man dashed back and forth across the concrete. His racket connected violently with the ball each time, sending it spinning over the side of the net in a yellow blur. It was really quite a spectacle, especially knowing how hard it was to stay focused on the game. Despite his concentration and excretion, apparent from the sheen on his exposed skin, the man's face was calm. Blank and emotionless, Sebastian might call it. His mind, quite obviously, was elsewhere. This was going to make Sebastian's little 'introduction plan' a lot more exciting.

"Not bad." He said. The man dropped his racket and looked around wildly for him. Sebastian could see some sort of internal struggle going on behind his eyes, even from this distance. As they spoke, Sebastian with winks and wide grins that showed all his teeth, and the man with stammers and awkwardness.

_Damn it. He's clever. _Sebastian wasn't dumb. He could see the shift from annoyance to... whatever character the man had obviously played with Chase. But, he could also see a darkness behind his black eyes. A sort of ominous promise that things were about to get fantastically interesting, especially seeing the red tinge on his ears and cheeks. Sebastian reached past the narrow waist and pulled the ball machine to the shed. He left with a reminder that he would see him tomorrow, and a name. _Jim. _

oO0Oo

He was nearly to the door of the front office when the sound of slightly raised voices reached his ears. Jim was following a black suited man towards a disused storage shed at the very edge of the facility. Sebastian could see it from where he was, but not well. He crept behind a building closer to the shed and peered around the edge, his hair falling into his eyes as he braced a muscled arm on the wall. Jim was standing in the doorway of the shed with an annoyed look on his face, his jaw set and eyebrows furrowed slightly. He stepped inside, and seemed to be talking agitatedly to someone in the shadows. After a couple moments, something snapped. Jim's body, which had been twitching slightly with what seemed to be annoyance, suddenly seemed fluid and calm. However, Jim was obviously far from calm. He cocked his head to the side, and Sebastian could almost see the dangerous smile spreading across his face. Jim seized the throat of the person, still half hidden in shadows.

Sebastian's mind was racing. _Shit. _How could Jim have transformed so swiftly? _It sort of seemed like he didn't even do it on purpose...it just happened. _Then, as quickly as he had changed, Jim seemed to be back to himself, whatever that was. He stepped out of the shed, running his fingers through his hair. His dark eyes were flickering back and forth. However, as much as whatever had just happened had thrown Jim off, Sebastian could tell that whoever had caused it would not last long.

Sebastian was still trying to discern Jim's changeable personalities, a feat for having only known him for ten minutes. He longed to find out which were real, which were facades. Jim was a puzzle that Sebastain was determined to piece together, however dangerous that might prove. He was still caught up in his thoughts when he saw Jim's wide eyes snap towards him. He jerked back around the stone corner. His chest was heaving with exhilaration and his veins were full of adrenaline. He tilted his head to see the heavy clouds rumble, and finally, open. It began to rain, sending rivlets of icy water trailing down his face and down his collar. _This, this was going to be fantastic. _

**deadliestdistractionRN - the crushing may be mutual indeed.**

**Also, thank you to James Birdsong! I'm glad you like it so far!**


	4. there's a dream i can taste

**Oh god. I cannot tell you how excited I was to write this chapter. ALso, this chapter is ALLLOT longer than the others. SO. All the other notes are at the end, so here you go…**

**p.s. sorry again for the long wait **

Jim woke the next morning in his penthouse, dressed quickly, and left with his bag hurriedly slung over his shoulder. He dismissed his driver from the front of the building, choosing instead to take a cab. He needed to think, and that was much easier around someone who he wasn't expected to act more...Moriarty around.

_I'll pretend nothing happened. If someone is trying to mess with me, the best way to flush them out is by forcing them to take more drastic actions. _He could probably find who did it anyway just by taking the time, but…

**This ways' more exciting. **Moriarty said lazily. Jim smirked, this was one of the only things they'd agreed on recently. He would still have to be careful. This early in his career, there wasn't enough of Scotland Yard on his payroll to ensure the operation's safety, though that would hopefully be changing soon. In the meantime, what was going to be done about this Sebastian Moran? He'd hacked the tennis facility's employee records, but there was nothing in Sebastian's file apart from his name and a note that he was being paid with checks instead of the more common electronic transfer. Interesting.

As soon as he arrived, Jim paid the driver and dashed inside. He wanted to arrive before Sebastian so he could watch the other coaches with the earlier groups of kids. Jim could fake almost anything without actually doing it well after a couple minutes of watching a master. It was really quite a helpful ability. Jim waved a quick hello to Chase, who was stringing his racket behind the counter.

"Don't worry about Sebastian, he's a prick to everyone." Jim heard Chase call to him as he headed out the other side of the building. Once he was out of earshot, Jim snorted. Sebastian's behaviour had been far from cruel. He sat casually on a bench in front of court fifteen, where a coach was working with a couple of the younger kids. Apparently this group, though younger, was dropped off earlier to allow their parents to get to work. The older children, some of which Sebastian and Jim would be teaching, could walk from home and cross streets without getting in danger.

**How ironic. **

Jim grinned internally at Moriarty's quip.

_Yeah. They should be running in the other direction. _

The coaches on the court waved to him, then continued their teaching. Jim watched carefully as they adjusted one kid's grip on his racket, another the height of the toss on his serve. Jim stored away a couple neutral coaching notes to use later. 'Remember, keep your eyes on the ball.', or 'Keep your swing loose as you follow through.' It really was quite simple. Jim knew from experience that the kids would get better all by themselves if they really tried, no coaches needed.

After a while, he checked his watch. It was nearing nine o'clock. If he wanted to be on his court before Sebastian, he'd have to go then.

oO0Oo

Court five was still a little damp from the fantastic thunderstorm the night before. Thankfully, most of the puddles were confined to the edges of the court where they wouldn't bother the players. Jim set his bag down on another bench and glanced at the sky as he sat down on the asphalt court. It was still quite cloudy, but there was no wind to disturb the balls as they were hit back and forth across the courts. He straightened his legs and leant forward, stretching out his calves and hamstrings. Jim sighed softly as the muscles lengthened and loosened. Despite the morning chill, Jim knew he would fine once he warmed up. He was pulling one arm over and behind his back with the other when he felt a warm puff of air hit his neck.

"You can drop the act, you know," said a familiar low voice.

Jim snapped an elbow back into what seemed to be a very solid, yet warm, wall. The wall stiffend, but Jim didn't hear the grunt of pain that usually accompanied an elbow to the stomach. Jim might have been small, but he could handle himself. He spun around to find (_could it really be anyone else?_) Sebastian standing a couple inches from his face.

_Dammit, he's tall. _

It was slightly harder to be intimidating when you were looking up at your victim, but Jim managed it. Usually. Sebastian was staring down at him with a crooked grin plastered across his face. It took Jim a couple more seconds of glaring furiously at him as they stood mere inches apart, breathing the warm air between them, before he registered what Sebastian had said.

"What?" he whispered, softly, dangerously. Sebastian gestured at him.

"You. Pretending to be all innocent and nice around the others. I'm the only one who's noticed it's not really you."

"**We're in trouble now, Jimmy...lemme at him." **Moriarty said quietly.

Jim ignored him. His eyes were wide as he stared at the other man. He grasped on to what words he could muster, his voice now tinged with curiosity.

"Who am I, then?"

Sebastian cocked his head to the side, grinning at Jim's resolve and ability to hold his own against someone much bigger.

"This. Maybe. But definitely not the person I saw by the shed yesterday either, strangling that man." Jim's breath caught in his lungs.

_This is bad. This is very, very, very, very bad. _

He barely noticed when Sebastian winked and walked away, leaving Jim with his arms dangling loosely by his sides and a muscle twitching in his jaw.

"**We could dismember…. eviscerate….. immolate-ooo that's a fun word…" **

_No. Shut up. I need to think._

"**You just want to get out of ruining his pretty face." **Moriarty teased.

Jim shook his head. He had to stop stroking Sebastian's ego by letting him strike Jim speechless. He walked after the man, and grabbed him by the arm.

"If you want to stay alive for more than a couple hours, I suggest you don't mention this to anyone."

He watched as Sebastian glanced at the vice-like grip Jim had on his arm.

"Wasn't planning on it. You're the most exciting thing that's happened to me in a long time." Sebastian added, his voice suddenly low and serious.

Jim released his arm. It was like Sebastian had reading Jim's thoughts. There was no was this could be true. That this egotistical git was in some way like him, though he would have to be to have found out what he did about Jim.

When Jim looked up, Sebastian was still watching him with a quiet smile on his face.

_I'm going to let him get away with this...but only because it would be a shame to get rid of such an intriguing plaything. However, he should know what he's getting into. _

_Go on. But don't scare him away._

**Wonderful. **Moriarty smiled, but instead of it being internal, Jim could feel himself retreating as his lips spread wide in a manic grin. Moriarty took a step closer, looking up from under his brow, his head tilted down. He shook his head slowly at Sebastian, who's smirk was starting to show again.

"The person strangling that man yesterday? Who, me?" Moriarty widened his eyes in mock surprise as his voice rose an octave. "Glad you noticed."

"No problem. Bloody good fun, by my standards."

Moriarty cocked his head to the side for a moment as his pitch jumped around.

"You've got promise, pet. Keep it up, lest I lose interest."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "What if _I _lo-"

"I wouldn't." Moriarty snapped. Sebastian just smirked, and Jim could feel both the irritation and excitement pulsing through Moriarty.

"Yessir."

"Wasn't a suggestion, Sebby, but I like the attitude."

oO0Oo

Jim shifted back to power. He'd heard and seen everything of course, but Moriarty had the reins. He kept his face carefully blank, save the annoying red tinge to his ears, a rather sharp contrast to Sebastian's wide grin.

"You know, I don't know whether or not I should say 'sorry about that', Sebastian, because you look like you enjoyed it a bit too much." Jim said, quirking an eyebrow. Sebastian's glinting smile just grew.

"So sue me."

"I certainly could if I wanted to."

"Show off."

"Don't get cocky now, Sebastian."

"Like you don't want me too." Sebastian finished, winking. He walked away to meet the kids who had begun trickling towards the courts. Jim had been just ready to roll his eyes, but the brush of Sebastian's hand on his waist as he walked away stopped him. He blinked rapidly. "We'd better get going," Sebastian called over his shoulder, watching Jim, whose eyes were wide, a slight frown on his face. "And apparently, I'm Seb now." The involuntary smirk on Jim's face gave him away, and _Seb_ punched the air triumphantly as he continued to walk off.

oO0Oo

The coaching didn't end up being as difficult as Jim anticipated. Mostly because Sebastian did most of it. The blonde was a better actor than Jim would have liked to admit, but not quite good enough to fool Jim. They had been working on serves that first day, and Jim looked over to where Sebastian was correcting a boy's grip. He kept getting it wrong, and Sebastian would obviously had bored out of his mind if he didn't get to keep shooting little jabs at Jim as they worked. Jim was demonstrating a toss, and Sebastian had whistled softly under his breath, beyond the notice of the children.

"Shut up." Jim has hissed back, which had only frightened the few children near him even more. _Jesus, it's not like I'm threatening to kill yo-_

**I don't know, darling, they are quite bothersome.** Moriarty mused. After Seb had, so to say, cracked his shell a couple hours back, Jim had run into some difficulty getting it back, especially with Sebastian determined to keep him out in the open. This, however, had led to most of the children gravitating to Sebastian's line, which only earned the man another dark look.

"All right. Now Coach Jimbo and I-"

Jim glared icily at him, and he smirked slightly in satisfaction at the almost imperceptible shiver that ran down Sebastian's back.

"-will be demonstrating the correct way to serve, will all the motions we talked about put together in order."

Sebastian walked over behind Jim and gently took hold of the hand holding his racket. "Just like I how I was teaching you." Sebastian said, his words directed at the kids, but his voice as soft as the hold on Jim's wrist. He reached around Jim's body, significantly easier with their height difference, and took hold of Jim's other arm. _Oh, no he isn't…_

**He certainly is. **

_Thought you didn't like him._

**I like to watch you squirm almost as much as we do other people.**

"I'll have you for this, Moran." Jim hissed, though he winced internally at the slight hitch in his breath. This was getting increasingly out of control, though he somehow couldn't find it in him to pull away.

"Looking forward to it." Seb breathed in his ear, then continued to commentate the specific things he was looking for in a serve as he pulled Jim's arms through the correct movement, just as he had been doing with the children a couple minutes ago. Thankfully, Sebastian only demonstrated using this method a couple of times, eventually releasing Jim and dismissing the children. After collecting their things, Jim and Sebastian walked out together, Jim shooting annoyed glances at him all the way. They stopped at the black car that had just pulled up to the car park.

"Jim, I'd like to ask you something, but from what I can tell, you probably won't tell me."

_Of course._

"What was I doing yesterday, at the shed? You're right." Jim said coldly. Sebastian said nothing, simply watching Jim for a moment.

"I think you'll tell me. Maybe not now, but eventually."

"Why do you say that?"

"I can be persuasive if I want to be."

**This smart-arse still doesn't know who he's dealing with.**

"Try it, we'll see what happens." Jim said, but he could feel something stirring inside him, as if he really did want to see what Sebastian would do. It wasn't like watching idiots try to covertly sell drugs was any more interesting. As a matter of fact, this new… _development_… was really rather exciting.

oO0Oo

The days passed quickly, with Jim driven to the tennis centre each day, Sebastian always arriving a couple minutes behind him. They would teach the kids how to win points, hit ace serves, and whip out forehands. Sebastian would flirt a lot, but there was always something intangible, something quite real that Jim could sense under his playful manner. Jim found himself enjoying it, as cutting as most of his remarks were. If Sebastian walked past him, he would brush his fingers across Jim's shoulder or waist, always finding some way to, as Jim saw it, remind himself that Jim was really there.

One thing kept nagging at the back of his mind, though, even as there were no more troubles on the business side of things.

_The medic. Or really, the man who I thought was the medic. How did he find me so fast? Does he really know who I am, or was it some sort of investigation? _

Jim's mind whirled as he sat on the bench at breaks, in the car home, at his table were he sat alone each morning, or as he lay awake in his bed at night. He sometimes caught Seb looking at him as he sat frowning out into the distance, seeing nothing.

_I don't know why I should be so worried, _Jim thought a couple days later as he watched Sebastian point at children, directing them around the court. _If anything gets out of hand, which at this point, it doesn't seem like it will…Moriarty will take care of it. _

The week was filled with mounting concern at the fact that the "medic" hadn't shown again, and yet there was always time to ponder Sebastian. Strange, familiar feeling Sebastian. It sometimes felt like he was watching a younger, dumber version of himself, which was still a compliment. And also a bit weird considering the definitely inappropriate comments Seb kept sliding under the kid's radar. Jim simply couldn't sort him out, which was very rare. And frustrating.

It made him madly, madly excited.

oO0Oo

In Friday's staff meeting, Chase announced that there would be coach challenge matches that day. Jim wasn't worried until Sebastian shot a look somewhere between anticipation and challenge at him. This was going to be very interesting. Chase explained that the coaches on each court would play a full tennis match out, partially to give both the kids a good example, partially to give the coaches a break from, well, coaching. Apparently it was a bit of a novelty around there. Jim scoffed internally at the other coaches cheers, but put a shy smile on show. Sebastian, obviously having seen past his facade, came close to laughing every time Jim put it back on. _Hilarious._

They walked out of the meeting and split off into their courts, the kids already waiting on the mini sets bleachers for the matches to begin.

"Nervous, Jimmy?" Seb said, nudging him off balance. Jim rolled his eyes.

"I should ask you the same. You'll be wishing _you_ were being strangled after I pummel you into the court."

"Someone's cocky."

Jim shrugged, giving Seb a delicate, but threatening smile, then switched tones abruptly. He loved the effect his constantly changing tones and pitches threw people off, sadly, it didn't work as well on the blonde.

"Mm. Must be rubbing off." he said, speaking like he was observing some rare and moderately interesting specimen. His voice touched higher octaves than was certainly possible for the other man.

They began to play.

It started off gently, but soon enough, Jim realized that it was more like a predator luring it's prey into a false sense of security. But as much as he watched Sebastian carefully as the ball spun high and slow over the net, he could not tell which was which. He tried to take advantage of Sebastian's distraction to search for details that would be normally be hidden.

This didn't work for long, as Jim found that the game was as much of a distraction for him than it was for the blonde.

He become lost in the game quickly. His heart pumping. Legs burning as he dashed back and forth with the increasing pace of the game. Beads of sweat running down his back. _Fighting_ to keep hold on the now slippery handle of his racket. It was fucking exhilerating.

And after Jim picked up the pace, Sebastian started to fight too. He played with passion, but wasn't the game. It was Jim. It was the idea of doing something hard. And winning.

Through the haze of exertion, Jim could get the sense that the way Sebastian held his racket, it wasn't quite right. Not by the official guidelines. It hints at something else. But he was tugged away when he dives for the yellow ball and wins the point.

When Jim played against himself, he never broke out of the thought-clouding haze. When he had played against others, if ever, he'd always won so quickly it never formed. But there was a strange balance, playing Sebastian. Soon, the haze cleared, and Jim found himself being able to think, not as sharply, but it was there.

This startled him momentarily, and he mis-hit a ball. It hit the net, and Sebastian grinned at him. Jim was able to see him with unexpected clarity, but that was the kind of weird shit adrenaline could do to you.

_So you want to play. Go on. Try and win. _Jim thought, gritting his teeth.

The game was getting faster and faster, with both of their strokes and shots getting more and more ambitious. Sebastian started to play dirty. By that time, some of the kids had already gone home, a couple went to hang out on other courts.

Sebastian hit a short ball, and as Jim sprinted to the net, the man sent a heated, searing look Jim's way. It nearly stopped him in his tracks. Jim hit the ball, but it was long, and landed outside the baseline. The game continued in this fashion for the rest of the game. And while Jim hated to admit it to himself, he lost rather badly after Sebastian figured out how to get on his nerves. After the game, they stared at each other from across the court.

**That went well. **

_Shut up._ Jim frowned as they both walked up to the net. It was customary, in tennis, that the opponents shake hands after a match. They were still panting slightly with exertion when they reached the net. Seb held out his hand, and instead of seeing scorn and victory in his face, Jim only saw something like amusement. Sebastian was smiling softly at him, which only confused him further. Yes, Sebastian had been teasing him relentlessly all week, but a couple well-placed snappy remarks would render him silent and calm. _It really is rather...strange. _And here he was, smiling warmly down at him, as if the game hadn't been what it must have: a bid to make sure Jim knew Seb was better.

Sebastian had met Moriarty. Seen things he wouldn't let people get away with seeing. And he was still here. He didn't seem to ever show any quake of fear when Jim turned, something the blonde had said making distaste flash in his eyes. This was something Jim had never encountered in his entire life. There was no balance, only him with complete power over everyone else. Now...everyone else but Sebastian Moran.

Jim felt the frown slide off his face. He took Sebastian's outstretched hand, and shook it, his cold fingers stealing warmth from the other man's.

"Don't suppose you'd like another game." Jim said, watching Sebastian with a clinical stare. Seb gestured to the few kids still watching.

"When that lots' gone…I suppose I might be able to stay on my feet."

"Good."

"Okay."

"No cheating this time."

"Cheating?" Sebastian smirked. "Me?"

They bade the children goodbye, though as quickly as possible. Soon, they were back on the court. The second game passed much like the beginning of the first. They were quite evenly matched. Sebastian dragged his racket through the air in powerful strokes, delivering the ball across the court at tremendous speeds, while Jim darted with expert speed and hit it right back out of the air. Jim's hair was sticking to his forehead. The points were getting longer, as they both fought hard for each one.

The sun was setting now, slipping unnoticed behind the horizon line, any chance of a glorious end of the day stomped on by the thick clouds. They were matched nearly point for point, now, and it was getting hard to see the ball in the growing darkness.

_This isn't going anywhere. _Jim thought as he served the ball. They'd been going between deuce and add for a couple points now. They were both getting terribly tired, Jim could feel his muscles beginning to shake from exertion. His throat was growing dry from breathing quickly for so long.

"Sebastian?" He called nonchalantly.

"Yeah?"

"Tired yet, darling?" They both grinned at each other from across the court, fatigued.

"Nah. You?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Lovely."

They both stood still, and somewhere along the line Jim realized the ball was no longer in play. His racket was on the ground. He felt himself sit down, and watched as Sebastian stepped over the net and walked shakily towards him. The man sighed happily as he sat down beside Jim. There was a heat radiating off of him, and Jim felt drawn to it like a fly to light. Despite the intense exercise, the cooling air was sucking all the body warmth he had straight out of him. He scooted closer, leaning against Sebastian's side as their eyes adjusted to the settling night.

He looked up at the blonde. This was new. Usually, when Sebastian set down beside him, or brushed his arm as he walked by… Jim would move away, or shoot him a glare. Lately, he didn't find it necessary.

**The most disconcerting part is that you don't seem to have an issue with it.**

_And you do?_

**It's my job, darling. **

Sebastian stared at him for a moment, and Jim could almost hear the other man's brain, he was thinking so loud.

"What is it, Seb." He said brusquely. Jim was going to try and keep what pride he had while he could.

"We're going for a swim." Sebastian said, grinning conspiratorially as he jumped to his feet, pulling Jim with him.

"Where? The facilities don't have a pool." Jim said, frowning as Seb dragged him along by his arm. Then, of course, he slapped his forehead mentally.

_I didn't even question it. No, "No, we are _not _going swimming." _

"There's a little park behind here," Sebastian said, dragging Jim out a gate in the chain-link fence and into a little wood. "And a pond."

Jim stopped short.

Glistening between the strips of trees hiding it from their view, there was a tiny pool, crystal clear and perfectly natural. There were a couple ferns clustered around the edges, the ends of their long leaves already starting to curl in for the night. The best part, Jim felt, was the lightning bugs. Tiny, glowing spots in the air that cast dancing reflection in the water. _It's beautiful._

"It's cold."

"Were you not there for the never-ending sweat-fest we just had?"

"That just sounds dirty, Seb."

"Would you expect anything else?"

"Arse."

Jim watched in disbelief as Sebastian stripped down to his boxers and strode to the edge of the water. Spots of light from the fire flies and the pool were flickering across his bare chest, in his blue eyes. The blonde beckoned to him, and Jim struggled to keep his eyes focused on his face. He sheepishly pulled his own shirt over his head, and soon he was standing next to Sebastian at the edge of the clear water. Jim could tell that not only his ears but his entire face was bright red. He felt a warm, strong arm slip around his shoulders as he shivered in the cooling night air. Jim dipped a foot into the pond and flicked a couple drops of water at Sebastian, who hissed through his teeth. Jim smiled sweetly, and Sebastian just shook his head at him.

"You're a sadistic little bastard, aren't you?" Sebastian said.

"So some say. But I think I'd rather like it if you stuck to 'Jim.'" He said, tilting his head back to see the other man. Sebastian blinked...

**Gave a bit much away with that, didn't you.**

_Fuck off. _

**Touchy, touchy.**

_I mean it._

...but his wide smile flew back onto his face in the span of a second. He scooped a flailing Jim into his arms, bridal style.

"Yessir." The blonde said triumphantly as Jim tried fruitlessly to pry himself free.

He jumped into the water, Jim still in his arms. There was a resounding yelp as the cold water stung their overheated bodies, then was replaced with muffled bubbles.

Jim sank. He drifted to the bottom of the pool, shallow enough to still be illuminated by the lightning bugs and, slightly, from the tall court lights. His fingers trailed in the water, and he watched the bubble trickle upwards. He felt a hand on arm, his head jerked around. Sebastian had stayed below the surface too. Jim could see the ridges of his cheekbones and shoulders lit up by the faint light, some strands of gold in his hair. Jim could feel his heart thrumming. Sebastian pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around Jim's narrow waist and holding him against his chest. Jim didn't protest.

Sebastian stood, still holding Jim close to him. The water lapped around Seb's shoulders, broad and tanned and freckled a bit by the sun.

_What…_

Time stopped. A whirl of confusion surged through Jim's mind. Sebastian was staring up at him like he was the most wonderful-

_No. Nobody could ever see me that way. I'm…_

And yet…

Sebastian's blue eyes were soft, his brow furrowed slightly in amazement. His lips were parted slightly. Jim couldn't think for the life of him. It was strange. He cupped his hands around Sebastian's jaw and bored into him with a frantic gaze. The blonde smiled, watching Jim as he struggled to puzzle together what was going on in his head.

"Hello." Sebastian whispered.

The tension in Jim's mind evaporated, and then, there was only Sebastian. Fireflies reflecting in his beautiful blue eyes. Warm arms wrapped around his own waist. The rough skin under Jim's hands as he held Sebastian's head between them. The tiny, crooked smile on his face as he gazed up silently at him.

Jim felt peace. It was new. It was different.

It was Sebastian Moran. Sebastian, who slowly loosened his grip around Jim, letting him slide closer. Who tilted his head in Jim's hands. Who slowly, ever so slowly, closed the last few inches and brushed his lips against Jim's. Jim's mind went blank. There was only _need._ He slid his fingers from Sebastian's jaw to twine into his hair. He felt arms tighten around his waist, pulling him harder against Sebastian's mouth. Jim could pinpoint every nerve in his body as he pressed closer. A millenia seemed to pass, and then they broke, rested their foreheads together. Jim gasped in a gulp of air, his eyes meeting Sebastian's. The normally cool blue was fiery, and Jim, this time, leaned forward and pressed his mouth roughly on Sebastian's. When they parted again, the blonde stroked Jim's back, and Jim shivered under the touch of fingered sliding over each bump in his spine. Sebastian trailed his lips softly down his neck and pressed a kiss to his throat.

_Wait. _

Jim gently detangled himself, though he ached to curl up against him, and steadied himself in the water with a grip on Sebastian's forearm. He looked at blonde silently, both breathed a faster, hearts thrummed a bit louder against their ribs. He blinked, then reached out and stroked a finger down Seb's collarbone.

"Sebastian Moran."

Seb smiled softly.

"That was… surprising. It might require further experimentation to develop a satisfactory conclusion." Jim said quietly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his thin, albeit reddened, lips.

"I thought it was satisfactory, though I wouldn't mind," Sebastian said, wading a step closer to Jim. "_further experimentation._" He pressed a searing kiss to Jim's mouth.

"You know, I would imagine by now you've heard that teensie little voice telling you this isn't a good idea."

"Oh, I have." Sebastian said seriously. "I'm just ignoring it."

Jim let him linger for a moment, their foreheads resting against each other again as they breathed. Then he backed away, a wide grin spread across his face. He turned, climbed out of the pond, pulled on his clothing, and looked back. Sebastian was standing still in the pond as lightning bugs illuminated the clear water around him. Jim continued away. He could feel Sebastian watching his back, right up until the night engulfed him and he was out of sight.

As he walked, Jim let his eyes close for a moment. He sighed, and pressed a hand to his chest, as if it could quell the way his heart was pounding madly.

Jim could still taste Sebastian's mouth on his. Like smoke.

And thousand promises.

...

_Fuck._

**This song goes with the last scene in this chapter. I know people do this a lot, but I found it made the atmosphere a lot better. So...there you go. **

** watch?v=PR60FpIFweI**

**Some more notes:**

**If you would like me to explain the rules of tennis, let me know in the comments/reviews.**

**I know that fireflies/lightning bugs (they are the same thing) don't exist in England, but… you can see why I put them in, right?**

**I am thinking about changing the name of this fic soon. What do you think? If I do, I will let you know beforehand.**

**SO! Thank you so much for reading. If you liked the length of this one, let me know. It will obviously take me a lot longer to make them this length, and I was really inspired for this chapter too, so…**

**I don't know when the next update will be, because *ugh* I'm busy. **

**Ciao for now.**


	5. Quick note to you guys

Hey guys, so I just wanted to let you know that then next chapter won't be posted for a while, because I want to write the one after as well while keeping chapter 6 editable. I'm also rewriting and combining chapters 1 and 2 as they are very short and I don't think they reflex the level of writing I had for the later chapters.

I wanted to thank you for all the support I've been getting. It's really motivating.

And sorry again for the confusion with updates and rewrites. I hope you are enjoying the story so far!

Ciao darlings.


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